The Negative Sex
by juliannarox
Summary: As new girl, Daria Morgendorffer, begins Lawndale High, Jane struggles against the newfound feelings she has developed for Daria. However, she is determined to get to know this perfect stranger who has just invaded Jane's life and changed her life and world forever.
1. Chapter 1

The lump under the covers stirred, squeaking as it yawned and started grumbling. Out emerged a half-asleep Jane Lane, squinting to look at her clock.

"There's a 6am now? Who the hell invented 6am?" Jane grumbled as she fell out of bed, scuffing towards the bathroom, just managing to avoid shattering her sleepy body into the doorframe. Everything was still blurry, but she could make out her reflection. A combined morning look of flailing hair and smeared make-up from the night before.

"Ain't you attractive…" Jane smirked at herself, proceeding with her morning routine, although earlier than usual. "Stupid Trent." She mumbled as she washed away her brother's latest shaving from the sink before brushing her teeth and re-applying her trademark black eyeliner and dark red lipstick, her raven hair brushed to it's usual straightness and parting. "Wait a freakin' minute, why am I getting ready for school? School's not for 3 and a half hours…" She sighed in annoyance with herself, but proceeded to throw her clothes on and eat breakfast. "Today had better be worth it."

* * *

"Lawndale High. How I loath thee." Jane prepared herself for another day of tormenting teachers and the sheer stupidity of her peers. She noticed a blue Lexus parked just outside the school, a ginger-haired figure propelling herself from the vehicle towards the gathering crowd and was immediately gobbled by the fashionistas and male counterparts. "Fantastic, another one of those shallow-minded, self-centred…" Jane trailed off as a second girl dragged herself out of the Lexus in a dreaded fashion, ignored entirely or given daggers. Brunette hair and a facial expression that screamed misanthrope whilst hidden behind a bold pair of circular spectacles, traipsing as she clutched a thick leather-bound hardback as if her life depended on it. Jane couldn't stop staring at the newest specimen. She was mesmerised. Even as the girl disappeared, Jane continued to stare on in the direction she went, unsuccessfully urging her legs to go move. Her thoughts were dashed as the wretched bell rung to signify that her shift in hell had commenced. Jane pushed herself to make her way to her first class. Every time she thought of the mysterious girl, she found her stomach fluttered. She hoped she would be in her first class…hoped that she was even in the same grade. Alas, there was no sign of her figure sitting in the room. Jane took her place among her peers, not paying a single attention to the drone of her teacher who clearly dreaded being here as much as the class did. Still, she could doodle her mind, and her mind was set on the female who set her stomach a-fluttering. She had delved far into her own world, refusing to willingly exit until the bell rang for her second class.

History. Ah, the beloved classroom of Mr DeMartino. She could already hear him barking at the students who had dared to enter his class already. He meant well as a teacher, but with the brainless blobs that sat before him each and every day, Jane wasn't surprised that he hadn't already lost it. She took her place near the back of the classroom, her humble abode away from most of the idiots that surrounded her. She settled back into her artistic mind, continuing her doodle from the previous class when she was thrown back out of her mind by Mr DeMartino barking about something she'd longed to hear.

"Class, we have a new STUDENT joining us today. Please welcome Daria Morgendorffer. Daria, raise your hand, please." Mr DeMartino barked at the girl before him.

'Daria, huh? A pretty name to go with a pretty face…what am I talking about?' Jane shook her head, clearing the thoughts away.

"WELL Daria, now that you have your hand raised," he sniggered at the fresh meat, believing her to be another idiot, "last week we began a unit on west world expansion, perhaps you feel it's UNFAIR to be asked a question on your first day of class."

"Excuse me?" Daria said, clearly annoyed that he was implying she was lazy or stupid.

"Daria, can you concisely and unemotionally sum up for us the doctrine of Manifest Destiny?"

"Manifest Destiny was a slogan popular in the 1840s. It was used by people who claimed it was God's will for the U.S. to expand all the way to the Pacific Ocean. These people did not include many Mexicans." Daria said coolly.

"Very good, Daria. Almost...suspiciously good. Alright, class. Who can tell me which war Manifest Destiny was used to justify?Kevin, how about you?" As Mr DeMartino began to victimise his students, Jane continued to gaze at Daria. She couldn't help but wonder about her. It continued to be this way for the rest of class. Mr DeMartino tensed as each minute passed, struggling to contain his inner temper. By near the end of class, he'd ranted that he would issue double homework and a quiz if no one could answer his question. Daria raised her hand after a sigh of defeat, realising that she was the only one who was even going to bother trying.

"DARIA STOP SHOWIN' OFF!" Mr DeMartino growled, causing Daria to jump.

'She isn't stupid, either. But…she gets shot down, anyway. Poor kid.' Jane tapped her fingers on the table softly and celebrated silently in her mind as the bell rang. Daria ran off and was nowhere to be found during break, much to Jane's dismay. She hoped she'd be in some of her other classes. She had to see her, again.

* * *

Ah, the end of another hellish day in that prison. Jane got out as soon as she could, spying the blue Lexus as Daria marched into it, slamming the door behind her. The ginger-haired girl pranced into the passenger seat. Clearly someone had a great day. Jane, headphones on, walked home to the beat of the songs that danced into her ears. She entered her home and proceeded to the kitchen, expecting her brother to still be sleeping in his cave.

"Trent! What are you doing up, it's 4pm. You're up early." Jane was surprised to catch her brother sitting at the kitchen table, contently sipping a hot beverage, clearly half-asleep.

"Couldn't get back to sleep after I woke up about a half hour ago, so I decided to just get up. This coffee doesn't seem to be helping me get up, though." Trent mumbled. Jane looked at the supposed coffee.

"Trent. Did you actually pour any coffee into that mug? All I see is hot water in a brown mug." Trent looked at his beverage, realising that Jane was right.

"Oh. I guess I forgot to turn the machine on…this is what happens when I wake up early." Trent flashed his sister a sheepish smile as she turned the machine on and began rummaging for a snack. "Anything interesting happen, today?"

"You've never asked me about my day, before. Who are you, Mom?"

"Mom would never ask about your day."

"True. Well, we got newbies. Some ginger-haired kid I don't know, and this other girl who's in most of my classes with these glasses. She's clearly not stupid, and she seems pretty cynical, anti-social, snide-"

"So she's the perfect person to be your friend?" Trent joked.

"Shut up, Trent. She seems nice enough. I kind of want to talk to her."

"That ain't like you. You never want to associate with anyone in that craphole, why now?"

"I dunno, something's just drawin' me to her. I don't know. She seems alright." Jane poured Trent his coffee. "I'm going to head upstairs. Mother Nature calls to me.

"Thanks for the image. See ya, later." Trent stirred his coffee as he watched his sister leave the room. Jane finished up in the bathroom and plopped herself onto her bed, switching the TV.

"We all know that dogs like to eat human food. But what about humans who like to eat dog food? Half-reincarnated grandmas next on Sick Sad World."

'Humans are stupid,' Jane thought to herself, mindlessly watching her favourite show. 'She was…she was kinda pretty. Gorgeous, I should say. Beautiful, if I dare, along with a lovely name and such a damn soothing voice. I wonder if, one day, I could ever talk to her.' Jane sat bolt upright and slapped herself on the face.

"Ow. I'm an idiot." Jane rubbed her cheek.

'There's no way in hell I have feelings for her. I mean, come on, I couldn't. Could I? Oh, Janey, stop thinking like that. You can't possibly have feelings for her. It's just a mistake. It'll be gone by tomorrow. Yeah, it'll be gone very soon.' Jane wasn't so sure of herself. She was scaring herself with these thoughts, but decided to shrug it off, convinced that they would be gone by tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Things will start getting kicked off, by the way. I'm just getting the characters introduced to each other. I'm not too proud of this chapter, but I promise that it won't be so...dim...in the chapters to come. Anyway, I'm sorry for the long wait and all that jazz.**

* * *

Jane struggled to keep her eyes open throughout the day. She'd spent the entirety of the night tossing and turning, mulling over her situation, desperate denial dominating her mind. She was clueless. She'd never dealt with a situation such as this in the past. Terror shook her, and continued to do so whenever she glanced at Daria, whenever she flowed through her mind, whenever she even heard her name.

Jane slumped in Mr O'Neill's self-esteem class, not even paying attention to the mumbling man that stood before her. She was lost in her thoughts, though trying to distract herself with the crap Mr O'Neill had scribbled on his board.

'"I'm okay, and so are you"? A board is trying to tell me I'm okay. A board is talking to me, now.'

Daria sat right in front of her, the board could no longer serve as a distraction. Her aroma of stale books swamped Jane's nose, replacing the constant fumes of paint that often loomed within Jane's nostrils. Jane sniffed, and sniffed again, longing to keep the smell of stale books, causing Daria to shuffle slightly in a self-conscious way. Jane panicked.

'Have I caused her to think I'm a freak? Am I making her uncomfortable? Damn it, Lane, when did you get so clingy? Who cares what she thinks. Who cares what anyone thinks. You don't need anyone. A paintbrush, a canvas, and Trent are all you need. Who cares?' Jane attempted to convince herself. She became satisfied…until Daria began to wave frantically to grab Mr O'Neill's attention.

"Excuse me. I have a question." Daria voiced, immediately grabbing Jane's attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Question and answer time's later." Mr O'Neill explained, a pathetic glimpse of sympathy plastered on his face.

"I want to know what 'realising your actuality' means."

"It means…look, let me get through this part, okay, then there'll be a video." Mr O'Neill stumbled, faltered and mumbled. Jane smirked, knowing Daria had just cut him down without even meaning to. He was clueless.

'Looks like I'm going to have to be the one to show her the ropes around here. It's my duty. Duty? I have no duties…argh! Lane! Talk!'

"He doesn't know what it means. He's got the speech memorised. Just enjoy the nice man's soothing voice." Daria turned her attention to Jane, a look of confusion met her.

"How am I supposed to follow him if I don't know what he's talking about?" Daria raised the question, feeling hopeless that no one seemed to know anything and wasn't receiving any help from anyone.

"I can fill you in later. I've taken this course six times." Jane felt quite proud of herself. She'd managed to talk to Daria and offer her help. Help that she clearly needed. She and Daria didn't talk for the rest of the class. Mr O'Neill hopelessly rambled on about upping self-esteem and forced the class to watch the video on how to increase self-esteem and what to do. Jane could recite the entire speech and the entire video. She noticed Daria wasn't paying any attention, either, but was scribbling in a notebook. Jane dared to lean over her shoulder and see what she was doing. A stick-drawing of O'Neill with the head of a cheese glared back at her, Jane struggling to hold herself together from laughter. A small squeak from Jane caused Daria to smirk, and she passed the drawing to Jane. Jane whipped her pencil out and began scribbling, creating additions to the drawing. Mr O'Neill didn't even seem to notice, or even care. Daria and Jane continued this throughout the rest of class before the bell rang to signify the end of their session.

"I'm just going to head to the toilet. Meet ya outside?" Daria nodded as Jane turned towards the lavatory. She leaned over the sink, staring into her reflection in the mirror. She began to laugh. "Oh, Jane, ain't ya in quite the pickle? This ain't you. You don't like girls. You've never liked girls, and you never will. Ain't that right, Talking Toilet?" She splashed her face with water, the cold liquid embracing her skin in a soothing forgiveness. "There's nothing going on. Nothing more will happen with the exception of sweet friendhsip." After re-applying her lipstick, plumping her lips together, she marched out of the lavatory with her mind racing. Daria was waiting outside in the school grounds, perched on the ground, book in hand with acute concentration. She noticed Jane's forthcoming shadow about to blanket her and stuffed her book in her bag, twitching a small smile at Jane. They began sauntering in the direction of Jane's home.

"So, you were going to inform me of what this abhorrent self-esteem course contains?" Daria asked.

"Well, you obviously know what happened today. Tomorrow, we're gonna be roleplaying. We'll go into pairs or small groups or something, and one of us will have to be the oh-so-confident human being who towers over us low self-esteem bunch. We much engage in conversation, physical contact like shaking hands and all that crap. Then, we swap and the same pointless said crap is repeated. So, then, after the roleplaying, in the next class, they put the boys and the girls in separate rooms, and a female counselor comes and talks to us about body image." Jane said coolly, surprised at just how well she knew the course and felt slightly embarrassed that she'd taken the course so many times, even if she didn't even need it.

"What do they talk to the boys about?" Daria asked, though already knowing the answer.

"A classroom full of boys and a male teacher?" Jane asked rhetorically, though she and Daria answered in perfect harmony.

"Nocturnal emissions." The answer was too obvious. Daria felt slightly stupid for asking. She quickly proceeded to leading on the conversation to ensure Jane forgot about Daria's supposed small blunder.

"I don't get it, Jane. You've got the entire course memorised. How come you can't pass the test to get out?"

"I can pass the test. But I like having low self-esteem. It makes me feel special." Jane kept looking on as she said this, almost missing the small smile that emerged from Daria, though noticing it eventually. Jane felt nervous. Her palms were sweaty and she shook slightly with nerves.

"Jane, are you okay?" Daria asked, slight concern in her deadpan voice.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking." Jane struggled to make a smooth recovery.

"About what?"

"It's nothing important. Trust me, amiga." Jane hoped Daria would leave it at that, but Daria kept looking at Jane with severe curiosity. Jane smirked, noticing that her house was in view. "Where do you live? My house is right there. See the white one with the metal sculpture in the garden?" Jane pointed out her house. Daria looked upon the plain white abode, studying the metal sculpture with interest.

"I like the metal sculpture." Jane giggled to herself at Daria's remark. "What'd I say?"

"Nothin', 'twas made by yours truly. I'm just takin' the compliment." Jane proclaimed with slight pride.

"I take it you have an interest in art."

"A talent, if I do say so. You should come check out my other stuff. It ain't too great, but I could use some inspiration." Jane bit her lip at the last part, but Daria didn't comment about it.

"I guess it wouldn't tear my legs apart to take a trek to your house. I'm in the next street. Just look for the big reddish house that screams murder-scene."

"I'll see ya, tomorrow." Jane departed, heading towards her house. She didn't want to leave, but at the same time, she couldn't be more thankful. She had to think things through. She didn't look back as she entered her house, the paint fumes taking residence within her nostrils once more.


End file.
